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Anguish of the unrequited.
Lies becoming luxury sustaining this pain.
The eternal gloom set for eternity.
Seeking affirmation through malevolence.
Ecstasy of love hoping to return.
A lifeless gaze towards the window.
What do you seek on the other end?
A waltz to the revolving door once again.
Creatures of habit Carved in stone.
We reap what we sow.
We reap what we sow.
Who’s to say.
This is a dead culture.
Who’s to say I’ll live with a means to connect?
This is a dead culture.
Who’s to say there is a disconnect?
We speak of Absolution.
We preach Dissimulation.
Our words carry misfortune.
Armed with our own extortions.
We speak of Absolution.
We preach Dissimulation.
Our words carry misfortune.
Armed with our own extortions.
Who’s to say there’s a disconnect?
Who’s to say there’s a disconnect?
We speak of Absolution.
We preach Dissimulation.
There is a disconnect.
This is a dead culture.
How far must we go?
To cleanse a soul plagued of misery?
How far must we go?
How much disorder must be face to bring forth balance?
How far must we go?
We speak of Absolution.
We preach Dissimulation.
Our words carry misfortune.
Armed with our own extortions.
We speak of Absolution
We preach Dissimulation.
Our words carry misfortune.
Armed with our own extortions.
This is a dead culture.
This is a dead culture.
This is a dead culture.
Dead culture.
